


A Case of the Fuckits

by Steerintoit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Codependent Winchesters (Supernatural), Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester Reunite, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, M/M, My First Fanfic, No Smut, POV Sam Winchester, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 09:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15838269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steerintoit/pseuds/Steerintoit
Summary: Dean is back. Sam can breathe.





	A Case of the Fuckits

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first eeevvverr fanfic - I welcome feedback, but please be kind!
> 
> Also: my computer ate my draft :/. I tried again here, hopefully it still reads okay. 
> 
> This is not at all smutty. It's more like just taking things a step or so further than what we already see on the show. It's Sam's POV, and I've tried to be true to his character as we see him, so it's also not terribly schmoopy. 
> 
> I don't explain the whereabouts of Mary, Cas, or Jack, with the reasoning that if Dean is back in one piece, Sam has more or less forgotten they exist ;). 
> 
> Set in Season 14. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Dean was back. Sam could breathe. He'd managed to extract Michael while fending off the Apocalypse-world hunters who wanted to kill him and didn't care about the "host". (Sam didn't care how accurate it was, he wanted to punch everyone who described his brother that way. He also tried very hard not to think about all the meatsuits he and Dean had killed over the years). 

The other hunters had scattered, still bent on tracking down Michael, who would presumably soon be raising hell (heh) in a new suit. If Sam was honest, he was glad to see them go. 

Sam and Dean had fallen into each other's arms, relief flooding Sam, who felt like he could exhale for the first time in months. Dean was banged up, but not seriously injured. He was mostly exhausted. Sam could relate to that - riding an angel is tiring, and Michael wasn't the type to go easy. Sam quickly decided to get some food into Dean and get him to bed, and that they could start talking it all over tomorrow. Sam himself hadn't slept more than a couple hours at a time since Michael had made off in his brother's body, and he was exhausted too. He got Dean settled, with stern warnings to yell if *anything at all was even a little bit off*, and went to his own room to crash. 

But now, in his room, Sam was too amped up to sleep. He reflected on the past few months tracking down Dean. 

Slowly, after years, they had come to a mostly-unspoken agreement. Where one goes, the other will follow. No more deals, sacrifices, or tricks to bring the other back. If neither could live without the other, they simply wouldn't. 

The problem was, Dean hadn't died. He was just _gone_. Neither alive nor dead. Which meant, effectively, Sam had also been neither alive nor dead. His life had been a tense, miserable limbo, utterly alone, even while surrounded by friends and family. Both life and death felt like betrayal. All he could think of was how to get to Dean and save him. Every second of every day there had been a high-pitched scream in his head. _Dean is gone. Dean needs help. Dean isn't here._ Nothing felt normal, and nothing felt alright. 

And now, Dean was back. Everything was okay again.

And all at once, it just felt so _stupid_ lying here, in his separate room, down the hall from his brother. Why was he here? What was he pretending? Who was he trying to convince? Everyone knew. For fuck's sake, they'd been raising a goddamn _child_ together. 

Why in hell was there any distance at all between the two of them right now? 

He was walking down the hallway before he'd even realized he'd gotten out of bed. A moment of doubt when he actually reached Dean's room, quickly dismissed. After some of the other shit Sam had pulled, he doubted he'd drive Dean off now. Dean might just make fun of him and call him a pussy.

But realistically, he guessed that Dean wouldn't even particularly mind.

A knock on the door. An entrance. Dean was also awake, puzzled and concerned. 

"Sammy? What's wrong? Is everything okay?"

Sam couldn't answer at first, feeling another rush of pure relief. _Dean was back_. He could breathe.

"No, everything's okay. Well, no, it's not okay, but it's more okay now than it's been for ages...I, just..." Sam fumbled for words, but Dean seemed to understand. He nodded and moved over on his bed. 

Sam gratefully crawled in beside Dean. They settled in together, foreheads touching, Sam's hand against Dean's beating heart. Dean stroked Sam's hair, his face. Remaining arms wrapped around each other. Both brothers closed their eyes. Their breathing slowed. 

There was nowhere else Sam was supposed to be.

"God, I missed you so fucking much."


End file.
